Percy Jackson: Flames Of Freedom
by Jaybird9876
Summary: Torn from his world following the aftermath of Gaia's death, A troubled Percy finds himself in the company of a beautiful pale lady, a dashing rebellious prince, and a devastatingly lovely witch. Watch how Percy Jackson once again saves a world from destruction. Things are never as they appear in Erilea after all. OOC Percy.
1. Chapter 1

Perseus doesn't know what he had truly expected after defeating Gaia. Massive parties, pissing off Zeus by not accepting godhood, maybe even going off to college were plausible scenarios that he thought would happen. All he knows is that he surely wasn't expecting... whatever the Hades this is.

_Outside of Greece_

_As Percy stands before the dissolving corpse of the Primordial of the Earth, he couldn't help the slight sting in his heart. The being in front of him resembled nothing of the horrific, conniving woman that he experienced before. Standing in the middle of a blazing crater, motionless as the flames harmlessly lick his ankles like a needy puppy; all the Son of Poseidon sees is a woman in mourning. Percy sees the face that he's seen hundreds of times on the families of his deceased friends. The face of someone who knows they will never see their loved ones again._

_He doesn't know whether Gaia is mourning for her children, the Gigantes, or for her late husband Ouranus. Percy stumbles back a half step as the dying woman before him cries for her husband. As she cries for her children and siblings. Her cries bounce around his head repeatedly. Her words go unanswered, and the feeling of emptiness begins to grow in the pit of his stomach. He begins to suffocate as the depth of what his actions have caused are realized. His lungs burn and his body numbs. The guilt crushes his soul and pierces his heart. The emptiness he feels spreads from his stomach to his head. He grabs his head as it pounds with the strength of a thousand Spartans._

_He's a murderer and he doesn't deserve any reward for his 'victory' on this battlefield. This field of carnage is but a symbol of his sins. A testament to how warped his morals have become. A sign of how deep his loyalty to the Gods is._

_His vision begins to blur and his senses start to tingle. At first he thinks it's the pure exhaustion and stress of the past few days._

_Then he realizes that it is nothing of the sort. A deep fog begins to form around the still blazing crater. The scene resembling that of a horror scene in a movie. Percy notices the fire forming a circle around him. Whether to trap him or keep him safe, he didn't know for sure. His breath leaves his lungs as a tall, lean figure blurs into existence. Once he sees what the figure is, he knows that whatever is happening right now, will forever change his life._

The lady was extremely pale. Oh, and naked. Those are the first two things Percy notices. Then the finely tuned instincts of a demigod kick into gear. The instincts that the demigods before him had honed to perfection. Within mere seconds his mind registers two things.

The first, and most obvious, observation is that the female should definitely be dead. Her body was extremely emaciated to the point that it looks more like a skeleton than a living being. The lady's chest and torso showed signs of severe starvation and dehydration. Percy could see every detail of her ribs as they practically pushed against her taut skin. Her arms were slightly more muscular than her legs and her breasts seemed almost non-existent. Her face was almost as bad as her chest. Cold dead eyes rested inside her oh so tired face. Her cheeks had sunken in greatly and her lips were cracked. Her hair looked dreadful: matted and drained of color. He could tell this lady was once gorgeous.

The second observation is that this lady was a killer. Legs having tensed upon seeing he, arms twitching in preparation for a fight, and eyes roaming for any weaknesses he had. Her eyes held a glint of steel. A promise of pain and suffering to all who oppose her.

He winces when the lady speaks her first words to him. Her voice gravelly and coarse from both unuse and dehydration.

"Who...who are you? Where am I?" She croaked, the false bravado in her voice painfully obvious.

Percy considers asking for her name first but quickly comes to the conclusion that while this lady may have been a killer, she was in no shape to harm him.

"My name is Perseus Jackson. You are outside the city of Greece." He pauses as an idea of what is happening occurs to him. "You are currently on Earth, the third planet from the Sun in the Milky Way Galaxy. What is your name and where do you come from? What brings you here?" He replies. By the way her eyes show a flash of confusion and fear, his suspicions of her coming from a different world are confirmed. She chews on her bottom lip as she determines what her response will be.

"My name is Celaena Sardothien and I come from Terrasen. I was about to escape Salt Mines of Endovier when a dense fog surrounded me. Then I find myself standing before you." She replies.

Percy goes to clarify her story when the dense fog returns. He shivers as the feeling of being watched becomes present.

"I am assuming that you didn't have any friends with you?" Percy asks half-heartedly. His bones were weak from exhaustion and he truly didn't know how much longer he could last.

Her lips twitch slightly as she shakes her head.

He was about to ask why she was naked when the feeling of weightlessness hits them both. His head begins to spin and throb as his body is forced through a tear in the Space Time Continuum. Reality is reduced to ribbons as all logic and physics are temporarily decimated.

The bones in his body feel as if they are being ground to dust, groaning and shifting painfully against each other. His muscles begin to stretch and tear as his body is manipulated. He cries out in agony as the pain begins to multiply. Tears trail down his cheeks as his body is forced through dimensions. Although his eyes were open, he saw and heard nothing. Time and space meaning nothing to his body at the moment.

Could it even be called a moment when his body is in a place where time and space mean nothing? Could it even be called a place? Did he even exist?

What is happening to me? Why can't I remember my name? Why can't I remember what a name is? What is that god's awful noise? His thoughts echo around his head as a shrill alarm starts to blare around him. He is barely able to close his eyes when an extremely bright flash of light surrounds him. Percy experiences the sense of falling. He feels the ground coming closer and closer. He prepares himself for his death, arms wide open in acceptance.

Then his body begins to slow. First to what could be called a jog, then a walk, then to a crawl, before it finally settles gently into the grass beneath him.

His eyes flutter open and marvel at the sight before him. His cheeks darken and his body reacts against his will.

Celaena's naked body had fallen on top of his body. Her neck tucked into the crook of his neck as her messy hair tickled his skin. His shirt had been torn to shreds long ago and his ripped shorts barely covered his scarred body. Percy knew that if she woke up right now, she would definitely feel his hardness against her thigh.

The lady above him groans in agony and his body freezes as her eyes begin to shift in their closed lids. She exhales against his neck, her hot breath sending shivers down his spine. He dared a glance at her face and was immediately breathless.

She looked absolutely angelic...at peace. Nothing like the traumatized young lady he saw back in his world.

Oh yes, he knew that this was not his world. He could feel the familiar tingle of magic in the air, albeit dull and seemingly muffled, that he had felt around Hecate's children.

The naked woman stirs and her eyes slowly crack open and when she stared into his sea green eyes, he knew he was in love.

Her eyes were magnificent. A bright sapphire blue with a golden ring around her pupil. The blue was more electric than Thalia's were. The gold richer than nectar.

"Celaena?" He inquires slowly. Her breath continued to tickle his nose as her face was mere inches from his. He could see the pain and suffering in her eyes. The missing sense of hope, the lack of faith, and the absence of a will to live made him want to embrace the girl in his arms. To take away all her pain, to bring this shell of a woman back to life. The urge to close the distance between their lips became unbearable as did the feeling of her weight against his.

Her eyes gazed deeply into his. Both seeing and not seeing him as she stared directly into his soul. Her eyes brightened slightly at whatever she beheld in his and she barely held in the tears of relief. Her eyes began to feel heavy and Percy started to panic.

"Celaena? Don't fall asleep on me now! We need to move! Celaena? Celaena?!" Her eye's shot open at his cries and she stood up abruptly, wincing as her hands barely held her up. She scrambled away from him on her hands and feet before yelping in pain as her whipped back hit a tree.

Percy slowly rose to his feet, both of his hands up in the air, and slowly approached her.

"I won't hurt you Celaena...but we need to move. I'm not from your world. I don't know where to go. Who to trust. All I know is that you need medical attention and all I have is ambrosia and nectar." He said slowly, squatting down before her injured body as she glared at him. He gently took her wrists into his hands and couldn't stop the boiling rage that bared its teeth at the sight of them.

"Who did this?" He snarled, glaring at the scars as if that could remove them from her body if he did it hard enough. Her heart beat faster as she slowly pointed towards a large compound to the north. His eyes darkened as they beheld the prison camp that caused this pain.

"Will you be okay here by yourself?" He asked softly, pulling out the steel dagger he always kept in his boot just in case, and carefully placing it in her hands. She stared at him in both confusion and awe.

"I won't let them harm you any more Celaena. As long as I breathe, no one will." He whispered to her without knowing it. Her cheeks reddened slightly at the promise and she turned away.

He stood up slowly and uncapped Riptide. To his shock, and relief, the once all celestial bronze sword was now a mix of mortal steel and celestial bronze.

Capable of destroying both mortals and monsters. But the mortals he was about to exact his revenge upon could only be called monsters. They were unworthy of the rights to be called human, and they would pay for their sins. He began to walk north with a predatory glare in his eyes.

Within a half hour, he had arrived at the large walled compound. As he felt around for a water source to help him ascend the stone wall, he sensed a disturbance in the vapor in the air. He rolled sideways instinctively and managed to dodge a lethal arrow. His arm shot out to the side and soon an entire creek began to roar its way through the dense forest he came from.

Shouts of disbelief and warning rang out but were soon silenced with a single forward thrust of his arm.

The old stone wall stood no chance against the demigod's power and crumbled within seconds. The bodies of the guards that survived the fall were immediately drained of all liquids, leaving them as a shriveled up pile of skin and metal.

He strut through the prison grounds with the grace of an apex predator. His eyes hollow and dull as he brutally ripped apart any enemies that came at him. His sword merely an extension of his arm as he commanded it to tear these monsters limb from limb.

Arms were chopped off, legs were sliced to hits, and heads were removed with single swipes of his legendary sword.

If Percy had been fully aware of his actions he would have pondered on whether Zoë would approve of his actions here. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, he had given himself to his need for vengeance.

Bodies piled up around him as he slaughtered all who dared stand in his way. His power subconsciously differentiating who was his enemy and who was a slave by the state the body was in.

Soon the amount of guards against him trickled to a stop and he stood there, dozens of mutilated corpses surrounded him and blood drenched the dead grass below him. He started to cap his blade when he felt one last enemy begin to approach.

The man was a large scowling heap of flesh. His body was muscular but lacked discipline. It was clear this man was the captain of this place.

"You've killed all of my men. I must applaud you, it takes a lot of courage and skill to do that. Last time I've had this many corpses here was when that stupid slave bitch thought she could escape and killed dozens of guards." The man chuckled darkly. "All because some stupid slut made some of my men satisfied. How ridiculous!"

The man smirked evilly, "Besides, that's all these females are good for in the end. I know I enjoyed slitting that whore's throat when I finished breeding her." His face grew lustful as he remembered that night. "God's above, she was a tight one. Of course, that's expected of a virgin. It was so erotic hearing her scream for her husba-" he was cut off abruptly when a blade was shoved into his gut. Percy stood before him, sea green flames pouring from his sockets as his rage overcame him.

**"I shall enjoy taking my time with you.**" Percy growled in a demonic voice that he hadn't used since Tartarus. He yanked the blade free and grabbed the throat of the man before him. He wasn't much taller than Percy and was definitely not stronger than the demigod. Percy pulled the man's face close enough to smell his fear. "**And by the time I'm done with you..."** Percy whispered almost sensuously into the captains ear, the man's shivering body satisfying the Son of Poseidon greatly.

**"What you did to those two ladies will be child's play. I will savor the breaking of your soul; the crumbling of your mind. I will destroy you, and when all is done and you have next to nothing left," **Percy snarled, grabbing the sides of the man's face with his hands and glaring deep into the man's horrified eyes.

**"I shall destroy your family. I shall destroy your friends. I SHALL DESTROY ALL YOU HOLD DEAR! ONLY THEN SHALL I END YOUR MISERABLE EXISTENCE!"** Percy roars before knocking the man unconscious with a swift headbutt. The sack of shit crumpled to the ground as Percy continued to glare at it. That was when he felt the thousands of curious, yet fearful eyes staring at him.

Sighing deeply, he turned to the gathered slaves. He made a show of capping his blade and putting it in his pocket.

"Which of you know Celaena Sardothien? She was a prisoner of this wretched place." He asks. A thick silence answers back as the slaves take in the man before them.

He was about to repeat his question when a small frail lady emerged from the crowd. He approaches her slowly, hands in the air in a non-threatening gesture, and comes to a stop when they are within arms reach. The woman shocks him when she throws herself at him, crying and blubbering, somehow conveying how thankful she is for saving them. He rubs the woman's back gently, soothing the woman until her cries become mere sniffles. He tilts her head up and looks at her.

"Celaena is injured and I am at a loss of what to do. I do not know what this world is, nor do I know why I'm here. All I know is that she's dying and God's be damned if I let that happen. Are you able to help me?" He explains to her quietly, not even flinching when her head jerks up to stare at him in awe.

She continues looking at him with wide eyes before shaking her head and nodding to him. He bows to her slightly and turn to the assembled crowd of now free citizens of this world.

"No longer shall you be kept here as slaves. As things of pleasure for the monsters I have destroyed here. As the sole Son of Poseidon, I give my condolences to all of you...for your losses and hardships here. From now on, you are all free of this cruel existence. Take the weapons of your tormentors, pillage the coffers and corpses of your old keepers, and prepare yourselves for any retaliation that might come. The safety of your spouses, children, and friends now rests on your shoulders. Fight for them if not for yourself." He tells them with a voice filled with emotion and power.

The voice of the Sea God.

**A few hours later**

After retrieving Celaena-who turned out to have fallen asleep while he was gone-and personally seeing to her recovery, the feeling of exhaustion finally becomes too much for Percy. Due to the lack of cots, he was forced to either sleep on the floor, or sleep in the same bed as Celaena.

While he wasn't exactly comfortable with sleeping next to the delicate lady beside him, he hadn't slept in a bed in almost a year now.

That is how Percy ended up with Celaena's now lightly covered body in the same bed. She had somehow managed to wrap his arms around her small waist and snuggled deeply against his warm body, her neck tucked in the crook of his. Her cold hands were resting on his toned chest that felt as if it would burst from the pounding of his beating heart.

Her slow, steady breathing lapped pleasantly against his skin. He looked down at the sleeping beauty and smiled slightly. He tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead lightly. She moaned lightly and somehow snuggled even deeper into his form.

He knew this entire situation was moving incredibly fast, but the feelings he was experiencing felt like nothing before. He felt as if he were walking in clouds. He felt indestructible as long as she was by his side.

He would protect her, love her, and cherish her. He would destroy any who would harm Celaena and will tear down the Gates of Elysium if she was taken from him. He would face Chaos herself if he needed to.

"I'll always find you Celaena. No matter what happens, no matter how long it takes, I will always come back to you." He whispers, before finally succumbing to his exhaustion.


	2. Chapter 2

Confusion and worry were etched into the faces of the few recently freed women that willingly attended him and Celaena. While their all-powerful savior looked fine physically, albeit heavily scarred, the man had relayed to them that he couldn't move his body.

Yeah, Percy was unable to move. While usually an occurrence like this would be a cause for concern and panic to any normal person, Percy was obviously anything but a normal person.

He actually told them he expected his body to have become unresponsive weeks ago and was genuinely surprised he lasted this long without this issue. Alas, his attempts to calm the campers went either unheard or ignored.

How unfortunate.

Percy could _feel_ the grief and depression in the room and almost snapped at them for going weak on him. Luckily, he was able to rein in his emotions before he made a fatal mistake.

He wasn't injured or paralyzed. Nor was he sick or dying. His body just reached its limits and the survival instincts of a demigod forced him to rest.

A sorta failsafe survival feature that would force a demigod to remain resting if they were unwilling to do so themselves. He almost snorted as his dad's words come to mind once again. _The sea does not like to be restrained._

God's above, remembering how many times he's heard that, he had eventually convinced himself that it was the Atlantean motto or something involving the royal family.

According to the tail shaped red mark he had for a few days before Hera took him, Triton didn't find that joke funny at all.

His heart aches as the reality of what happened to him begin to set. He wouldn't see his mother again, nor would he see Paul or dad. He wouldn't see Chiron anytime soon and already missed Thalia and her constant sibling like fighting the two of them had.

Honestly, besides saving the people of this mine and meeting Celaena, the only good thing that came of this scenario was that he and Annabeth broke up before he was transported here.

They'd been through too much together, unable to be near each other without having flashbacks to their horrifying experiences in Tartarus.

Percy turning Akhlys' poison against her, watching Damasen and Bob die for them to escape, constantly fighting every single monster.

Basically all of Tartarus was a flashback.

That being said, he never felt more at home than when he was laying beside Celaena, restraining the urge to lightly stroke her hair and hold her closer to him.

He's dealt with people like her before. Widows who have lost a purpose in their life and now just go through the motions until they eventually die. They lay down in bed and stare at the walls in complete silence, sometimes reminiscing about the past, or just not thinking at all. They do not speak or move. They have no reason to now, do they?

He knew something horrible happened to someone close to her recently, the pain in her eyes was fresh and obvious. Maybe her lover died? It seemed likely since she was clearly a killer. Celaena was most likely a trained assassin. A mercenary for hire possibly?

He mentally shook his head to clear his thoughts. His body begins to tingle as the feeling and ability to move returns to his body at last. When his body finally stopped tingling, he feels something from Celaena that he didn't feel yesterday.

Magic.

He almost whipped his head to face her but was able to control his shock. How had he not noticed it before? Was she dampening her ability while she was awake? Maybe some higher being here is protecting her from the evil King?

Oh yes, he's heard all about the scum of a person that took the throne years ago.

When magic fell throughout the continent, the King and his armies began to slaughter the magic wielders, burn the libraries, and pillage the cities. The savagery of war raced its way across the continent, cities falling like flies to the King's unnaturally strong army.

One of the inhabitants here told him the story of how easily the King's forces took this kingdom and he couldn't help but frown at the story. There was something off about the whole situation and it bothered him beyond belief.

Sure the King had an army, but even without magic existing, they shouldn't have survived against the immortal beings called Fae.

Something was very wrong about that King. What did he do to his men to make them nigh indestructible?

"That's impossible!" Prince Dorian declares incredulously. "Endovier is the most well-guarded place in Erilea, only being surpassed by the castle! There is no way the captives rebelled and killed every guard there!"

"My lord, it was not the captives who did this." Captain Chaol replies, his face that of a stone wall. "There are many rumors of an otherworldly being responsible for this…" Chaol trails off as he recalls the absurdity of some of the rumors. "Some say he's the manifestation of all our sins and has come to exact his revenge upon us. Others say he is a good hearted angel who seeks to protect those who can't protect themselves. Either way, the masses are split between fearing the man and worshipping him."

Dorian leans against the glass wall that made up a portion of the castle. His father, the king, insisted that this wing was made of glass for some outlandish reason.

"What is your view of the man, Chaol?" Dorian inquires, staring at the attentive Captain of the Guard across the hall. Sighing internally, Dorian wishes that his friend would relax every now and then.

"I believe that he is the latter. We both know of your...dislike, of the idea of slavery, but your Father's word is final." Chaol replies.

Dorian sighs aloud this time and, massaging the bridge of his nose, orders, "Set up a transport. I must speak to this man before any more blood is shed."

Chaol, despite all of his training that led him to being the Captain of the Guard, couldn't hide the shock that crossed his face.

"Dorian," Chaol replies slowly, as if clarifying if what he heard was correct. "I hope I'm mistaken on what I've heard, but it sounded like you said you wanted to speak with the man who slaughtered over one hundred guards within seconds." Chaol's shock was crystal clear to his childhood friend.

Dorian glanced at his friend and gave him that irritating, cocky smirk that wooed so many women. "Of course not! Why would I ever say such a thing?"

Chaol grunted then sighed. He'll have to watch Dorian more closely now, to ensure that he didn't do anything stupid. Although he was royalty, Dorian had a very large rebellious streak. The Crown Prince also hated his father with a passion.

That man on the throne was not a father, nor was he a husband. He was a tyrant with tasteless ideals. A man who had a ridiculous amount of power and was not afraid to bend everyone to his will through either slavery or executions.

"It was just a thought, my friend." Dorian breaks the comfortable silence. He whirls around gracefully and strides out of the room to wander the castle halls.

Percy finally stands up from the empty cot two hours later. Walking to what he assumed was the washroom, he stumbles slightly due to his aching back and throbbing head.

"Gods, I feel like I just fought the Minotaur for the first time all over again." He groans, opening the door clumsily and practically falling into the steamy room.

Closing the door behind him, he strips, the blood-splattered clothing finding their way into the corner of the room. He slowly lowers himself into the tub, sighing as the hot water energized his body. The weariness and pain from yesterday washing away within seconds.

He lays his head back along the edge and ponders the events of the past day or so.

He lays there for what feels like hours before the moment of peace and tranquility is shattered from the creaking of the bathroom door opening. He opens his eyes and turns his head to see his visitor.

"I'll never understand how your body looks horrible and youthful at the same time." Celaena drawls, shaking her head in exaggerated disbelief.

"You can thank the Greek half of me for my devilish looks." Percy replies with a faint smirk as the lady shamelessly stares at his naked form.

Her eyes wander from his ripped abdomen up to his slim, yet strong, chest. They travel across his broad shoulders, follow the hard muscles of his battle-worn arms, and stop at his calloused hands. Her eyes flicker away from his hands and fly over his lean, strong legs, stopping for a small moment at his crotch, then finally continuing up to his grinning face. Her cheeks redden slightly as she realizes she was staring.

Deciding to not further embarrass her, he stops grinning and clears his throat, drawing her attention back to his relaxed body.

"I heard something very interesting from the people here." He informs her, his face stern and serious. She glides over to the side of the marble tub and, after drying the surface, sits down next to him and crosses her arms over her chest.

"And what was that?" She asks, her finger mindlessly tracing along her recently cleaned skin.

"They told me about the history of the King." Percy states, looking up into her closed eyes, taking in her calm, delicate features.

"Something isn't right here, Celaena. No matter the strength of the King's army, these Fae creatures should have easily demolished them. They are immortal for Zeus's sake. Millennia of training in both magic and combat should have made them unstoppable."

Celaena opens one of her eyes and glances at him. "Well obviously there isn't something right. Anyone with half a brain could know that." She scoffs.

Percy blushes slightly at her statement and looks away from her. "Right…"

"It's just...I come from an immortal family. I'm half god for crying out loud! So if there is anyone qualified to understand and explain immortal beings, then the one who pisses off and fights almost every single one he meets should definitely be the first to go to." He replies with a dry chuckle.

"I would highly suggest keeping that information to yourself Perseus," He winces at his full name, "there are few people who would understand your situation, and even fewer who wouldn't sell you out at the drop of a single copper."

"And you wouldn't?" Percy retorts. They were both surprised at his uncharacteristically harsh tone. She glares at him before swiftly rising to her feet and walking towards the door. She pauses at the doorway, turning her head to look at him out of the corner of her eye, and stares at him.

"No I wouldn't…" Her voice soft as she exits the washroom and closes the door behind her.

Percy continues to relax in the warm water for a few more minutes before finally willing himself dry and throwing on a pair of black skinny jeans and a navy blue V-neck t-shirt with an image of a trident over his right pec. He flattens and styles the out of place strands of hair on his head and brushes his teeth with his travel brush he kept with him. He freshens up with deodorant and cologne and leaves the washroom at last.

He leaves the comfort of his living quarters with his "luggage". Which was really just a few extra pairs of clothes he had in his pack and his personal belongings. Stepping outside, he breathes in the stale air and begins to walk away from the camp, Celaena falling instep with him a few seconds later.

A few hours of walking later, the two exit the cover of the mountain ranges as they arrive outside of the Ferrian Gap. As Percy searches for a way to cross the large chasm, the sound of soaring wings reaches his ear and he freezes.

His eyes scan the empty horizon for a few moments before his instincts roar at him to step back. Doing so, he just avoids getting his throat torn out by a large beast and scrambled away as twelve other similar beasts follow the first.

The riders of the beasts, all girls by the looks of it, hop off their mounts and surround the demigod and assassin.

"Ahem. Well then, do you always greet people by ripping out their throats? That doesn't sound like a way to make friends." Percy chuckled dryly. He pulls out Riptide causing a few of the witches to chuckle, at least, up until he uncapped it and the xyphlos extends to full length. The women step back and arm themselves with…

Were those fucking _claws_?!

"...so...I'm assuming you aren't human...unless all humans look like the Big Bad Wolf if he was pretty." He replied nervously.

The women directly in front of him cocks her head in confusion at his reference, before holding out her hand towards her followers.

"You are trespassing on the lands of the Ironteeth Witch Clan. State your name and business and I just might spare you from a painful death." The leader states in a cold, dead tone.

"You know, it's common courtesy to offer your name before you declare a death threat. Here I'll start, I'm Percy Jackson. What's your name?" He quips dryly. The lead witch's lips twitch minutely before her iron teeth slide into place.

_Okay. Definitely Big Bad Wolf. _Percy thinks with a hint of panic.

"I am Wing Leader Manon of the Ironteeth. This is my Thirteen." She says, staring straight into his sea green eyes. She had to admit, he was a very good looking human, but he smelled...odd.

He smelled of sea and earth.

"Your scent isn't human, Percy. What are you?" She asks in a harsh tone. The other witches glance at each other in trepidation.

Percy rolls his shoulder as he releases his aura, the waves of power roll off his shoulders and the witches snarl at him.

_Unbelievable, his power exceeds even my grandmother's!_ Manon realizes. She looks back at Asterin, her second, and the two share a glance.

"Demigod." He states in a firm tone, staring seemingly straight into Manon's soul.

The witch falters briefly at the outrageous answer, but quickly regained her composure.

"Impossible. Demigod's don't exist in these lands. The Gods would never mate with a mere mortal!" She growls at him.

"Ahh, but who said I was from these lands?" He drawls. He started to calculate his odds in a battle with these witches.

He could defeat at least three of the witches with ease before he would be pushed back by their numbers. With Celaena with him, at least half of the witches would go down before things take a turn for the worse. Percy would probably earn himself a large gash on his arms or torso from one of those iron claws. He'd last long enough to down another witch or two but then get struck down from behind.

Celaena could probably take out another two, leaving only four witches left, which is when the two would either die or be captured.

The witches looked alarmed and Manon stepped forward half an inch. Asterin goes to stop her friend that she was responsible for guarding but is held back by Sorrel, Manon's Third. She shakes her head at Asterin and gestures towards the two newcomers.

Asterin glances at the intruders and realizes that their stances aren't aggressive, but guarded. She smirks slightly as she realizes they knew their odds in this situation.

"A demigod from another world you say? And just what world would that be?" Manon purrs in a tone that said 'don't lie to me or I will enjoy bathing in your blood'.

He meets her steely gaze with an equally steely gaze.

"Earth. A place filled with only humans, monsters, god's, Titans, primordials, and demigods. I've defeated a handful of each group…don't think that you witches scare me, Manon." He replies lowly. The two apex predators approach within arm distance of each other. They get even closer and stare directly into each other's eyes, sizing up the other.

He tilts his head downwards slightly and gazed at the deathly pale witch in front of him. She was gorgeous, to say the least, something he has noticed is common in this world. She looked to be sixteen and had long, moon-white hair and eyes the color of dark gold. She had a decent pair of breasts and reached his eyes in height. As he stared into her eyes, he felt something stir somewhere deep inside of him.

Manon felt it too but didn't cease glaring at him. Ignoring the raging hormones in her body that screech at her to _take_ this gorgeous specimen before her, she places her hand on his cheek, her iron nails digging into it slightly. She leans next to his ear and nips lightly at his ear.

"Are you sure you aren't afraid of me? It is quite unwise to be so at ease with a witch." She purred seductively.

Hey, she was an immortal witch that was forever stuck a sixteen-year old. She knew this magnificent man before her could definitely pleasure her immensely. She also knew that the lady behind him had his attention. She snaked her hand from his cheek, down his torso, and was about to lay at rest along his semi-hard member, before he stopped her.

Percy knew how to play this game too and placed his knee between the wing leaders crotch, digging into her core. "Oh yes _Wing Leader_, I'm sure I have nothing to be afraid of." He whispers back. Manon clenches her teeth to silence her moan and extracts herself from him. She steps back a few steps and stares at him, her pale cheeks slightly red.

"You're good...for a human. Who is your godly parent then?" She replied after her minute blush removes its foul presence from her face.

Percy straightens and replies with a proud tone(he truly loved being a Son of Poseidon, bastard one or not). "I am the sole demigod Son of Poseidon, the God of the Sea, The Bringer of Storms, Shaker of the Earth."

Manon raises an eyebrow at the man's pompous titles, inwardly baffled at the power his man's father had, and gives him a deadpan stare.

"Really? That sounded more pretentious than this land's King." She replies with a snort. She waves her hand back to the other members of the Thirteen, beckoning them to set up camp. Asterin approaches her leader and stands beside and slightly behind her.

Percy glances at the new witch and raises an eyebrow at how different she was. She was a polar opposite of Manon. She had golden hair, gold-flecked black eyes, heavy breasts, and a broken nose. She also appeared to be in her mid twenties and had no signs of lust for him, though he could definitely tell she was a very horny witch. The only similarity was the iron teeth and claws all of these witches had.

"So...what might your name be Goldilocks?" He quips dryly, unfazed by her glare.

Come on, he stared into the Abyss as it stared back, he could handle a young witch.

She blinked. Then blinked again before snarling at him. "It's Asterin you cockwad."

He laughed at her reaction and bopped her on the nose, "Adorable. Truly adorable." He says in a playful tone. He turns around and goes to set up a shelter for him and Celaena.

_Oh, this will be so much fun. _

Manon could barely contain her smirk as her second began to practically foam at the mouth at the demigod's antics.

_He is VERY good at this game. _She thinks with a devilish grin.


	3. Chapter 3: Gone

**Hey guys…**

**So, after printing out the chapters I've written so far, pulling out my plans, and spending hours at my desk writing, balling up, and throwing away dozens of solutions to my issues(as well as a couple cans of beer and about four energy drinks) I finally came up with a solution. Please note that this decision was a drastic change to my original plan for this story.**

**I had realized that the plan I had made wouldn't work. In essence, it was a self-destructive plan: it required sacrificing development and important plot points in the future for a few less significant ones in the present.**

**So I have drastically changed the style of my writing, twisted the plan beyond belief, and came out with a four thousand word chapter. This is the longest chapter I have ever written. My updates will be slow and methodical from here on out, so please be patient.**

**Anyways, a big fat thank you to those of you who stuck around and suffered through my dumbassery will be posted at the bottom AN**

* * *

_Percy stands still as a small child walks skittishly throughout a large, trashed household. The girl couldn't have been any older than 10 but her aura felt as powerful as a minor goddess. Not a powerful one, but more of a weak, small domained minor goddess._

_The girl had long, silky blond-white hair that almost reached the middle of her back. She wore a small tiara atop her head and had a red and gold amulet hanging around her throat. She was clearly royalty; most likely a princess considering her age._

_He wasn't able to see her face due to the shadow cast across it, but he could see the girl did not know what was happening here. Percy knew she did not understand that the walls were stained with blood and that the bodies laying on the ground were dead. Nonetheless, the child stepped carefully over all the fresh corpses and looked down at the marble floor._

_When she reached the end of the corridor, she turned a corner and entered a set of double wooden doors. Percy felt himself be whisked towards the corner, quickly reaching it, and phasing through the now closed doors._

_He was greeted with a creepy, but anticlimactic scene. At least for a demigod veteran such as himself._

_The small child had climbed into a soaking wet bed that held two adult bodies. By the way she held onto the man and woman's hands, he assumed these were her parents. He was led closer to the bed and was finally able to see what was drenching the bed._

_Blood. The child was lying in her parents blood._

_Then the reason he was having this dream made itself shockingly clear. The girl opened her eyes and stared directly at him._

_Staring into his soul, were a pair of blue pupils with a golden ring around it._

* * *

Percy jerked awake in his tent, gasping for breath at the astounding discovery. His vision swam slightly as he tried to regain his senses. Groaning, he slowly stood up and proceeded to leave the tent. His eyes scanned the seven other black and silver tents, making sure to note of the slightly larger one that was most likely occupied by Manon.

He began to walk towards the campfire they had set up during the night. All that remained of the roaring fire were red embers and ash. He was about to sit down on the large log by the fire pit before suddenly realizing that Celaena wasn't in their tent.

His head whipped around in a 360 degree turn, searching for the pale princess that he was determined to question. He soon found the woman relaxing in a nearby tree, her back against the tree and her body lying along a large branch. Celaena's arms were crossed over her slowly moving chest. Percy approached the tree and slowly climbed his way up to an adjacent branch to hers.

"Celaena?" He called out quietly, causing her to calmly open one eye.

"Yes? What is it?" She asked sleepily, stretching her arms out and yawning.

"We need to talk" Percy stayed, voice stern and serious. Celaena glances at him with a raised brow.

"Do elaborate on what must we talk about at such an early hour of the morning?" She retired dryly, clearly unhappy about being woken up.

"Your true identity." He whispered, gauging her reaction to this bombshell he just dropped. The only sign that he caught the trained assassin off guard was a minute twitch of the brow and a very slight widening of her eyes. He would have chalked it down to it being a trick of the mind if not for her breathing suddenly stopping, before immediately resuming at a normal pace.

"Demigods occasionally have weird dreams that help them tremendously. They can be of the past, of the present, or even of the future, and almost always help avert disasters. So while I am usually unsurprised about what I dream of, imagine my just how shocked I am to have had a random dream of a small princess laying in the bed of her dead parents?" He states, still staring at her, looking for any sign of a reaction. "While usually I would not know what this dream was until later, the dream ended with the girl staring into my eyes. Her eyes being identical to your own."

Celaena lay there in mild shock as the gears in her head worked overtime to find a way out of this situation.

"Who are you Celaena?! What are you the princess of?!" He growled, losing his patience.

"Aelin." She whispered almost inaudible.

Percy cocked his head in confusion before he realized she just told him her real name.

"Aelin Galathynius, Queen of Terrasen and Heir of Brannon. That's who I am, _Perseus_." She snarled at him. He recoiled at the venom in her voice as she spat out his real name.

He sat there in silence as she closed her eyes, a clear sign she didn't want to speak anymore. This subject was obviously a touchy subject for her considering the events of his dream.

Still, he knew that whatever higher being gave him that dream, it was necessary for some unknown reason.

Shaking his head, he stepped off the 20 foot tall tree and landed with the grace of a cheetah. Contrary to popular belief, Percy wasn't a clumsy, foolish dumbass. The misconception of him being dumb all tied back to his first day as a demigod.

He had just witnessed what he thought was his mother's death, fought against the Minotaur from what he thought was, until then, a myth. Then he was forced to go on a quest or be turned into a dolphin by a surprisingly sober, God of Wine.

So fuck the haters.

He slowly made his way back to the camp, the tents coming into view a minute or so later, when they suddenly were replaced by hundreds of tall, rich trees. Within a second, Riptide was extended to its full length and held at the ready.

He was about to call out when he suddenly felt a massive power wave hit him, forcing him to his knees.

Holy Hades, this...power...it's greater than Gaia's! Greater than Tartarus's! He thought.

"Indeed, Perseus Jackson. The Primordial's power doesn't even hold a candle to my mate's." A male voice replied.

Thought reading deities. Lovely. Percy thought dryly, before realizing he practically spoke his thoughts out loud.

A light, blissful female sounding chuckle echoed throughout the forest. The trees swaying in tune with the laugh, the grass blowing and growing slightly.

Then the forest and grass _burned completely._ He tried to jump back from the flames but was unable to move.

"Fear not my dear warrior, these flames shall not harm you." The female cooed.

Two bodies formed right before his eyes and he had to fight hard to not have his jaw drop completely. The woman was magnificent. Her hair was rich and moved with the wind. Her almost platinum blonde hair reminded him slightly of Jason. However, her eyes were the part that stunned him.

They were breathtaking. The type of eyes that you could stare into and actually lose track of time and space. Eyes that you wouldn't mind being the last thing you see.

They defied all normal attributes of normal eyeballs. There was very little white showing, having a glorious, rich gold that shines brighter than both forms of Apollo's temples combined. He absentmindedly wondered whether it was possible for gods to die from overdosing on nectar.

If they could, he hoped this goddess couldn't change forms into nectar, because she would overwhelm every god and goddess who even looks at her.

He could already feel her gaze consuming his essence, sucking the power from his veins as the raw magic she possessed began to draw out his own magic. He shook his head violently, causing the pull of her magic to cease instantly, leaving him with a headache.

The male was less stunning as the woman, although he was still quite handsome. He had shoulder length hair, the reddish gold locks being pulled into a ponytail. His body was toned and broad, giving off the appearance of a gallant knight. Of course, the pointed ears didn't exactly help the image.

Paired with the canines that were poking out from his grin, he looked almost like a cat. It didn't make his power any less powerful though.

His mouth opened, but the words he wanted to say wouldn't escape his throat.

The female hummed in amusement, approaching the demigod arm in arm with her husband, and closing his mouth with her index finger.

"What was that odd saying from your world? Close your mouth or you'll see flies?" Her eyes sparkle with mischief and glee at the son of Poseidon's reaction. "It matters not. Our time is limited, and we have much to discuss, Perseus."

Percy finally regained control of his speech, "Who...who are you?" He whispered in awe.

The male chuckled deeply, staring at him with the same expression his wife had. "My name is Brannon Galathynius, the Fae King and founder of Terrasen. This is my lovely mate, Mala Fire-Bringer, Goddess of the Sun, Lady of Light, Learning, and Fire."

The only evidence of Percy's reaction was the slight widening of his eyes when Brannon informed him of his last name.

"I can tell from your expression that you know of my connection to Aelin." Mala replied with an almost somber tone.

Brannon sighed and conjured up a chair. Plopping down in it seemingly removed the large mental weight he had. "Long ago—when Mala and I were still living in this world—there was a large global war between two of the biggest nations. Erawan, the Valg King, was adamant on turning this world into his personal playpen. He created his Valg princes and abominations to send this world into eternal darkness. His corruption swept across the lands, decaying wildlife, polluting rivers and lakes, and destroying everything in its path."

"Until he came across his first worthy opponent. The Fae male fought against his army with a Queen named Maeve. The man wielded fire with extremely accurate precision, decimating all who dare challenge him, until all that was left was Erawan, his Valg Princes, and a portion of their army." Mala said, stopping shortly as a sad smile graced her face.

"He was then forced to flee across the sea by Erawan, who then continued on his path to world domination. There was only one person who could stand in his way. The daughter of the man who he had just killed. From a cave in Wendlyn, the lady communicated with the gods, requesting their assistance in trapping Erawan with them. It came at a severe price."

Brannon continued where his mate couldn't, he shared directly into the son of Poseidon's eyes, freezing the demigod's blood.

"'Nameless is my price'. Those were the words spoken by the gods to Elena Galathynius." He whispered, his tone conveying the deep self-hatred, angst, depression, and guilt that he had experienced for millennia.

A cold sense of dread filled Percy's stomach. His senses began to dull and his head began to thrum.

"Elena had no children at the time…but I'm sure you can connect the dots from there." Brannon finished, staring morosely into the distance, completely unaware—or uncaring—of the demigod's dwindling sanity.

He had come so far, killed so many, and for what? Two ancient beings who literally sacrificed their bloodline to trap an evil being that the gods should have been responsible for keeping under control.

The Son of Poseidon had been through a lot in the past six years, far too much for any normal person. But now, as he stares at the cold hard reality of the fate that was in store for the girl he cared for?

His mental state was forever altered. He was given a harsh and cruel reality check. In mere seconds, multiple thoughts crossed his mind. All of which angered him. The biggest one, however, was what truly altered his fate.

The gods in this world were almost exactly like Earth's gods. Selfish, greedy, arrogant bastards who treated the loss of life as inconsequential. Their pride so great that they struck down any who hurt it even slightly. Their grudges so deep that even millennia later, the spats between them were just as violent. The world was dying around them and they didn't give a damn. His rage was back, and it snared and buckled against his restraint. The restraints he willingly broke as he was past caring of the consequences.

"You are all _monsters_. _ALL_ of you! Not just your daughter and you two! Is this how every immortal is, no matter what fucking universe they are in? Is this all that awaits mortals in the future? A cruel and uncaring world where our lives can easily be turned into a goddamn puppet show?!" He snarled, his tone cold and dead, resembling the voice of a demonic entity. His green eyes darkened and if one looked closely enough, they would have sworn they saw small boats in his eyes being crushed and flattened by massive green waves. His pupils became pinpoints as the white of his eyes turned a dark blue. His body began to glow an abrasive white, lightning arcing across his arms and snapping between the tips of his fingers.

Brannon's head whipped around with a blazing fire in his eyes. He began to level his paralyzing glare at the demigod, only to falter at the sea spawn before him. Brannon flinched as he felt the abnormally volatile wave of power crash into him from Percy.

Percy may have the honor of having plot armor but even that wasn't enough. His power didn't even hold a candle to the two deities before him.

It was as if he was a forty five pound four year old trying to take down a one hundred and forty five pound, nineteen year old point guard. The power gap between them was hilariously ridiculous. Especially when the demigod's own domain has been reluctantly accepting his will.

A conflict would not end well for Percy but his raw power and potential was nothing to be ignored or waved off. His rage was not something to trifle with either. His powers being directly fueled by his emotions almost gave him an endless maximum power level. The more emotion he felt, the stronger his power.

And boy was he feeling_ a lot_ of emotions right now.

"Relax, Perseus." Mala calmly stated, her voice laced with warning and slight irritation. The voice washed over him not quite unlike charmspeak, calming his rage almost immediately. Percy closed his eyes and started taking deep, calming breaths. He reopened his eyes—the previous oddities having reverted back to normal—and noticed Brannon was gone, but Mala remained.

"You will face many hardships here, Percy Jackson. When you feel like you have no way out, remember this: While Fate may be concrete in your world, it is open for change in ours." Mala purred to him, her form slowly melting away.

As she was disappearing, she froze and her eyes gazed at him with scrutiny, seemingly contemplating whether to act or not.

She chose the latter.

"Your foul presence is not wanted here, Malachite."

Then she disappeared.

Percy stood there in silence, the thoughts from earlier temporarily forgotten. But fate was never kind to him, so It was inevitable that they would return full force. He tried to control the anger so hard; closing his eyes, taking deep breaths, even counting to ten, but it was futile and he screamed out his rage. The anger he released was so great that it would have caused the entire world to fear his power.

His eyes changed once again, the rage so powerful that they were even glowing. It seemed that the boats that were in his eyes beforehand were actually present. The scene displayed through the glowing light shined out onto his surroundings. His head darted around frantically, the glowing eyes acting almost like a flashlight as they lit up wherever they were pointing. The wind around him like a million damned souls. The trees were drained of the water within them, their previously beautiful and healthy forms deteriorating into dull, decayed, and withered grey lumps. The liquid swirled around him causing the lightning on his skin to meet the water and arc throughout it.

He heard the sound of a pained cry followed by the sound of choking. His head snaps up, extending his senses outwards, searching quickly for the victim. It took him a second to search through the immense amount of water that was present around him , but he soon found the source of the pained sounds. Despite being controlled by his rage, he realized that he was the cause of her pain, and relinquished control over the liquid in her body. Gasps of air and whimpers of pain replacing the previous cries.

**"I can hear you. I can sense you. If you don't want the taste of my blade to be the last thing you experience, leave now. I have no time for games.**" Percy called out as he turned his body directly towards the spot where the female had hidden. The glow of his eyes landing on the curled up female.

"**Leave.**" He yelled, his voice trembling. "**I-I won't ask again. I-I have no qualms with ending your pitiful existence where y-you stand.**"

The lady rose shakily, holding her abdomen with one of her hands while the other attempted to steady herself on one of the decayed trees. Her body was extremely weakened and the arm holding her up gave out at the slightest bit of weight.

She couldn't help it when the tears started streaming down her cheeks. Her mental state was a mess at the moment. The close call with death, the still life threatening problem before her, and the inability to move away from the man broke her. Her body began to shake with sobs, the whimpers of fear and hopelessness barely audible.

Aelin curled up even more when she heard him move. She had never felt so powerless. So weak. So..._insignificant_. Her body had practically been broken, her mind soon after, and her will was next.

"P-p-plea..please…" She begged, her voice tiny and timid. The future Queen of Terrasen and the greatest assassin ever _begged_ for mercy from a man. She groveled and shrank before him. Her body trying desperately to get up and run from him. But she was too weak.

Percy's entire body jerked at the voice, the raging water and lightning halting as if time had frozen. The light from his eyes began to flicker. The demigod's body began to thrash around as something within him fought his will.

Percy's eyes began to change again, but instead of blinding white light blazing out of the sockets, black, fog-like particles began to leak from them.

The Son of Poseidon's mouth opened impossibly wide, his eyes flickering between green and black, and his body still thrashing about. The voice that followed shook Aelin to her very core.

"**Y-yOu C-c-cANNot Sto-o-op Us! We A-Are DaRKnEss InCArnAte!**" Percy screamed.

Pernicious. Demonic. These words paled in comparison to what the voice contained. It's malevolence couldn't be defined by a single word or definition. Satan, Tartarus, Jashin, and countless other beings seen as evil could never strike as much terror as this voice did.

Percy grasped his head and yelled out in agony. He began to cry out the names of his dead friends. Then came the self-mutilation. Percy began to rip at his skin, futilely trying to pull the Valg out of his body. The endless cycle of ripping flesh, regenerating it, and ripping it again caused Percy to screech in despair. His eyes began to bleed a mix of gold and black, the colors seeming to fight each other as they trailed down his cheeks. His hair began to turn grey at the very tips, showing just how intense the stress was upon his mortal body.

Aelin wanted to run away from the murderous being before her. She wanted to hide from this terrifying creature. The horrific events were something she would do anything to forget.

But her body wouldn't let her. It wasn't due to the fact she was injured but this pull inside her chest that yelled out in defiance at her cowardice. She felt a warmth spread throughout her body. A tender, loving caress of her entire being which brought with it the feelings of hope, love, and happiness.

_You and him are cut from the same cloth, Aelin. Do you hear his cries of desperation? Can you feel the agony he suffers? Do you see just how much this demigod has suffered in his life? Hesitantly making friends, knowing they were very likely to die a violent death. Serving beings that cared little for the lives of his family because there was no other choice. His sacrifices being spat upon countless times. Save him, Aelin. For he would do the same for you in a heartbeat._

The feminine voice in her head was familiar. She desperately tried to recall the owner of it, but everytime she was close to remembering, some force would prevent her. Aelin understood what the woman said and knew deep down that she would help Percy. The problem she had was too big for her though. There wasn't exactly a "How to remove an evil Valg from your demigod friend 101" book to tell her what to do.

_The hands of darkness cover his heart in more ways than one, Aelin._

The hands of darkness? Aelin's eyes darted to Percy's trembling and bleeding hands. She was about to stop when she saw a flash of black and silver begin to shimmer around his ring finger.

_I can not interfere anymore, my child._

She rushed forward, her injuries not hindering her anymore, and yanked the demigod to the ground. If not for the man having an inner war with a Valg, she wouldn't have ever been able to take him down, much less pin him.

She grasped the black and silver band in her hand and began to take it off of Percy's finger.

"**StOP! You CANnot TaKE hi-**" the voice was cut off when she finally removed the band from his hand. The ring began to burn from the lack of a host and was soon reduced to foul-smelling ashes. Percy convulsed below her as his will and soul was suddenly freed from the grasp of the Valg.

Aelin's heart hurt at the condition Percy was in. Not only was over half of his hair now a silvery grey, it was now down to his shoulders. The only portion that was safe from the stress that was forced upon him was the last few inches of it.

Despite his powers healing the broken flesh, there were dozens of new jagged scars along his arms, legs, and across his chest. Blood was plastered everywhere on his body but was slowly being washed away by the rain.

But what really caused the stabbing pain in her chest was his eyes. The look in them was traumatizing. Tears trailed down her cheeks as she pulled his body closer to her.

His eyes could only be described with a comparison, for no known word could envelop the true intensity of the look. Gone was the warm green. Gone was the blinding white. Gone was the black pupil. It was as if someone took a picture of a malnourished prisoner with a broken look in their eyes and changed the entire eyeball to a dull, empty, and hollow grey.

He looked so fragile, so broken, that she couldn't help but sob over his body. Even in the Salt Mines, she hadn't seen this look in someone's eyes. There was always the smallest bit of hope present.

Percy looked like his entire soul had been removed from his body, killed, then forced back into it. The gaze of a dead, broken, and hollow man was all that remained.

His head turned to look at her and what he did next made her want to end it all.

He _chuckled_. It wasn't a happy chuckle either. It was the chuckle of one who knew he was truly broken beyond repair.

The smile he flashed at her would haunt her for years to come, despite how very small it was. A slight upturn of the lips, as if he was smirking at a little joke.

But the joke he was laughing at was himself. The self-deprecation in his smile stabbed her heart, the broken gaze punched her gut, his fragile body ripped out her lungs.

His eyelids began to grow heavy and he soon slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

Thank you so fucking much to:

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You . got . really . ugly

Without y'all I wouldn't be where I am right now!


	4. AN

**I hope you all enjoyed what I've done so far with this story. I wanted to address some concerns or questions y'all probably have. Y'all are maybe thinking of a couple things:**

**Why is the story taking such a dark turn?**

**How did Perseus, who has killed primordials, become possessed by a Valg?**

**How long will Perseus be broken?**

**In order: **

**This story was always going to have a somber and intense tone to it. Betrayal, angst, doubt, fear, and rage would be prevalent throughout Percy's tale, as they always have. Romanticism is an idea that is present in many Greek myths, whether it be heroism or chivalry. I must expand upon this idea, as it is intriguing for both me and the readers to read a story of suffering, only for the character to persevere.**

**I have also become more pragmatic, for lack of a better term, about the reality of Percy's situation. He is a bastard child born of a broken oath. He was cursed with a terrible fate and has and will continue to suffer.**

**I feel that it is important to follow this path, as it brings about a feeling of realism and intensity with it. With the lore of TOG being rich with malevolence, heroism, and royalty, I believe it would be most beneficial to continue down the darker route.**

**To answer the second question, you must remember this: Perseus is in a new world with powerful beings beyond comprehension. If anyone here has played World of Warcraft, the power differences would be like Anduin Wrynn fighting Deathing one vs one.**

**The Valg are beings that, according to TOG lore, possess humans and feed off of them, effectively killing them. They can be removed from a host using powerful healing magic, which destroys them. They have the abilities of Nyx but multiplied tenfold. And that is just the rabble of them.**

**Finally, Perseus's mental and physical state is probably going to be my favorite part to write. The inner mechanisms of the human mind is fascinating to explore. Humans are resilient, there is no doubt about that, and demigods even moreso. Healing takes time no matter how strong-willed one is.**

**For Percy to be broken by a supreme power shall be a harsh blow to both his pride as a warrior and protector of the weak. Combined with the fact he hurt Aelin, which can be perceived as traitorous to his fatal flaw, will have a long lasting effect on the hero.**

**Rest assured, he will not become evil, nor will he remain permanently broken. Where his loyalties lie will shift though, as the facts of the gods that he has been subconsciously avoiding, has kicked him directly in the balls.**

**Jaded. Cynical. Prone to outbursts of anger. Traumatic breakdowns. Mental and emotional manipulation. All of these will occur in the coming chapters. This fanfic will be my biggest(and hopefully best) work yet. **

**If any of these characteristics trouble you, I would not blame you for not reading my story. **

**I may not be a psychologist or an expert on the human mind, but I have confidence in myself that I can properly portray the process of healing for Percy, along with his troubled thoughts.**

**Now, about my update schedule. I am going to take this extremely slowly. I have wasted too much time already with this story making careless mistakes. I can't risk rushing my chapters and producing a failure of a chapter.**

**At the most, I may be able to update every month. At the least, after the semester ends. My GPA suffered last semester as I was unprepared for the massive amount of workload I had, so I must work extremely hard to bring it back up.**

**I hope you will continue to stand by me for the future, as I undertake my biggest work of fiction I have ever written. Your support, your reviews, your follows, and your favorites show me that I am doing a good job. It gives me joy to know my work is interesting to anyone and I hope to continue giving detailed and well written chapters to you all.**

**Hellscream Legacy will not be continued by myself. I had made that story as a "test subject". Could I make one shots that had the potential to become more for another writer to finish? Were they good enough? So I decided to post it and offer it to the community for "adoption". All I ask is you DM me. I don't even care if you give me credit or not.**

**Darling and Deltas In Flight will be put on the shelf for now until I am done with this story.**

**Her Darling, Her Beast has been marked as complete. I had always planned for it to be just a one shot.**

**The Demi-Dozen is complete. I had originally written it to improve my descriptive and action scene abilities.**

**For now on, chapters will be above 2k words at least. Please be patient with me! :)**


	5. Chapter 4: Lost

**Hey everyone. Welcome to chapter 4 of the revised version of Flames of Freedom. A couple things I would like to discuss.**

**Am I allowed to complain and be selfish? Just a little bit? It won't be long. Yeah? Ok good.**

**One review? One hundred and eleven views on chapter 3? That's it? I know it's kinda petty of me but I was expecting more of a response….**

**Now onto a small tangent that I have been unnecessarily brooding over lately: is it just me or do "reading X's story: X" feel unrealistic? I mean, the Olympians are godly beings that have lived for MILLENIA. Many of whom have practically thrown off most of their emotions and possible attachments. Why the hell would they do anything other than stare in impassive boredom as a story is forcibly told to them? I know it isn't viable to write but I'm really hoping someone makes a parody reading where the gods have little to no reaction to the PJO series. It seems like it would be the most realistic and reasonable reactions the immortal beings would have.**

**Onto a not off topic, err, topic. I realized a week ago(mid January) that I didn't exactly explain very well how Percy would act for the foreseeable.**

**The healing of Percy's mind and body won't be consistently noticeable. It also won't be fleshed out as thoroughly as some other PJO writers do *cough* DelayedInspiration *cough*, but if you picture the scene and take the facts into account, it WILL be noticeable. He won't be having outbursts at random. He won't turn into a raving lunatic every other paragraph. At most, there will be a few moments of extreme anger and insanity, several breakdowns(mental and emotional), and a consistent portrayal of an exhausted and numb Percy. Numb as in so emotionally and mentally tired that his interactions, words, and reactions will seem sluggish.**

**TLDR: He gonna be angry sometimes. He gonna be sad sometimes. He gonna be okay sometimes. He gonna be fine tho.**

**Lastly, the next chapter(or two) will be focusing on the inner turmoil of the main characters and the actions of Dorian. Little time will pass within the upcoming chapters as I flesh out the extent of the feelings between Perseus and Aelin, and the predicament Prince Dorian is faced with.**

**Anyways. I hope you enjoy the first "arc" of Percy's path to "mental stability". I do not know how many arcs there will be exactly, but plan on at least two. **

* * *

Aelin loved a night under the sky. She enjoyed listening to the buzz of insects, croaks of frogs, and occasional chirps of the few nocturnal birds that were native to this land. The trickle of creek water and the breeze of the wind was music to her ears.

The life of an assassin had denied her this privilege for years and she had almost forgotten how much she had enjoyed it. Despite all the training she had endured, like being forced to break her own hand so she could learn to dual wield knives, the exhaustion in her body was overwhelming her. She hadn't felt this exhausted since the day after she attempted to escape the Salt Mines.

A dark smirk graced her face as she recalled the surprised and pained face of the guard she had shoved her mining pick in. The blood exploding out of his stomach and back as she forced the pick all the way through his abdomen, breaking his spine and rupturing his lungs and spleen in the process. When the pick had exited out the back of the guard, the man had practically been bisected. It was one of her favorite memories in that wretched place.

Her smirk disappeared when she recalled the events that followed her successful escape. She had met him in a fiery crater. His sword was at the ready and the fire danced harmlessly against his skin. She had been transported with him back to her world, where he proceeded to completely annihilate her previous captors, freed all of the slaves, and went on to talk down the ruthless Ironteeth Witches.

Despite all of his good deeds and easygoing attitude, she struggled to not fear his power. She had done well for the past few days, but when the demigod had broken all of her last night, her fear was clear as day.

The witches that had been with them had survived last night and decided to remain with the two of them. Manon had been adamant that the demigod be subdued until they were positive he wouldn't lash out again.

It was this declaration that led to her and the Wing Leader sitting in the latter's tent, staring at the body laying on an extra cot.

"His regenerative abilities are fascinating…" Aelin heard the witch murmur to herself, the golden eyes staring in awe at the skin. The same skin that a mere ten hours ago was bleeding profusely. The same skin that was now perfectly healed and clean of blood. All that remained behind were white scars that littered his body.

"His power...it is frightening to experience, Manon. I wouldn't wish his fury upon even the King of Adarlan.." Aelin trailed off, her eyes turning away from the man and laying their gaze on the opening of the tent. The sun had broken the horizon, shining beautiful beams of lights through the gaps in the trees. Godlike rays of light shone down upon the tents and the witches seemed to enjoy basking in its warmth for short periods of time.

"I know. I saw the injuries he dealt to you and to himself. I also saw the radius of his destruction," Manon paused, narrowing her eyes at the man's body, "do you know just how large his storm was, Celaena?"

Aelin shook her head in reply, mentally noting that the witch hadn't overheard her conversation with the demigod last night, and motioned for the witch to inform her.

"Every tree in a three mile radius had all of the water ripped from them. The ground had been completely flattened by the powerful gales of wind he summoned," Manon turned to stare at Aelin, "Do you realize what I am saying, assassin? This man destroyed an entire forest, flattened the terrain, and almost killed you, all while fighting off a creature within him."

Aelin's blood froze, the extents of the demigod's power leaving her in stunned silence. Manon's eyes softened ever so slightly at the assassin's tense body. She may not know what it felt like to have her will broken, but she had seen what it did to her fellow witchlings.

"I wouldn't even wish his wrath on the Crochan's...no one should ever be reduced to a literal puppet on strings, no matter how evil they are." Aelin sat there in silence. Her instincts were conflicting with her thoughts.

The assassin was never one for morals. All they did was make her job harder, after all. She could kill with no regret, steal with no problems, and sabotage enemies with ease. For Celaena to think about the morality of Percy's powers, spoke volumes about the severity of the situation.

"Manon. Why are you still here? I did not think the witches tolerated humans."

Manon smiled slightly at the woman's reasoning. It was true. Witches only used humans for breeding or feeding. To stay around them for an extended period of time normally sickened them.

"You are correct. The scent of humans is dangerous to witches as it intensifies our urges and instincts. It acts like a poison to our senses the longer we stay around them. This is different however. Tell me, how many beings can say they've met a demigod who had more power than anyone else on this planet?"

Aelin couldn't help but smile slightly at the Wing Leader. She was finding a twisted sense of camaraderie with the witch, understanding and agreeing with her ideas and beliefs. Or, in some cases, her lack of them.

She was about to ask another question before Percy groaned. She looked down to see the demigod stirring from his sleep.

His eyes drifted open and she exhaled in relief that they looked even the slightest bit better. They were still cold and dead, but there was a tiny bit of the original light inside his pupil. He slowly blinked his sleepiness away, his eyelids feeling ridiculously heavy.

He locked gazes with the two women in the room. Attempting to open his mouth to speak led him to coughing up a storm. Aelin and Manon helped him sit up, the former handing him a small glass of water. He nodded his thanks and slowly sipped the water to avoid vomiting it back up.

He looked away from their faces, staring at the corner of the tent. "Is everyone okay? How many did I kill?" He rasped out defeatedly. He tensed up in preparation for the no doubt large death count that was about to be presented to him.

"No one died, Perseus. However, if you hadn't stopped when you did, you would have sucked all of the water and life out of Aelin. You are both lucky that she is alive and relatively well," Manon replied, standing up and placing her hood over her head again. "Dinner will be ready in a few hours. While it irks me to do so, my Third suggested to mend our bonds by inviting you," Manon informed them, frowning minutely before leaving the tent. The tension between the two strangers was bothersome at least; suffocating at most, and Manon's body screamed at her to leave the extremely awkward situation before she died of unease.

The two were silent for a few minutes. Aelin didn't know what to tell the demigod. She was scared of his power, scared of how he almost killed her, and worried that he would be controlled again.

Percy couldn't think straight at all. He kept mentally beating himself up over his actions. He had almost _killed Aelin._ Sure he hadn't known her for a long time, but he still felt a sort of kinship with the queen.

Like Aelin, he was also scared of having the same experience happen again. Recently, he had prided himself on his mental fortitude against charmspeak and possession. So for him to be possessed without even knowing it terrified him greatly. He hazily recalled how Aelin had pulled a ring off of his finger. He had completely forgotten the ring that one of the male slaves had given him.

As a demigod, he was able to access higher levels of metacognition than a mortal could. He could critically analyze his emotional, mental, and physical state of being far deeper than anyone else could. He could plan out his actions faster than a mortal ever could. This paired with the extra energy provided by ADHD is what made demigod's such powerful warriors.

So it was understandable that he would be worried when he couldn't analyze how he was emotionally or mentally at all. Instead of a relatively clear and concise result, he was given a muddy and indecipherable mess of an answer.

Numb was the only feeling that he knew for sure he was experiencing. His mind was tired, his body was tired, his heart was tired, and his soul was tired.

His anger last night was the worst it had ever been. When his emotions had taken over in the past, the worst that happened was a creation of a miniature hurricane from streams, rivers, and lakes. Even after Tartarus, that was all he took it from.

He felt like his entire being was being punched whenever he recalled how he had been siphoning the water from Aelin's body. He knew the cause of the pain was his fatal flaw. He mentally scoffed.

_Personal loyalty._

There was nothing he hated more than his fatal flaw. He knew it was one of the better flaws that a demigod could have, but it pissed him off beyond belief. After Tartarus, he had taken a long time on the Argo II to collect and reorganize his thoughts and beliefs. Gone was the cheerful and charismatic demigod. Such was the fate of those who entered Tartarus and survived. Part of him was glad that his fatal flaw would only hurt himself.

Percy knew it was awful for him to think it, but he also often wished that his flaw would hurt others instead of himself. Of course, to the compassionate and idealistic mortals and demigods of his world, him hurting Aelin wouldn't be his fault at all. Said people were foolish dreamers who possessed not a single pragmatic bone in their skeletal structure.

Hindsight was twenty-twenty, that was something the two-time war veteran knew intimately. He had made a foolish error when accepting the ring from the slave at the Salt Mines and he wanted to slap his past self for completely throwing away the number one rule he learned in his time dealing with mythological beings.

There is no such thing as a free gift or favor. That was something he had learned very quickly. It was also yet another hindrance to become if his fatal flaw got involved.

While he slept, he couldn't stop seeing Aelin's frail body begging him for mercy. It sickened him to see such a proud and strong woman reduced to such a pitiful state because of him.

His flaw was like him: hypocritical. His loyalty to his loved ones often hurt them more than helped them. Instead of protecting them, he hurt them.

He always felt powerless against his flaw. He couldn't tame it, as there was no way to do so. Others could actively counter vanity or a lust for power. Remove yourself from the presence of a being or object with power you could possibly obtain. Take preventative actions like Thalia did when she joined the hunt.

That still hurt him to think about. He hadn't even known her for a year and she just dropped all of the world on his shoulders as she ran away from the responsibility. Percy also understood that it was for the best, for he had never seen such fervor and want in someone's eyes as he did when Thalia was confronted by Dr. Thorn.

Unfortunately, the only way he could ever counter his flaw was if he exiled himself and left civilization behind for good.

He mentally shook his head, attempting to clear his mind, and turned to meet Aelin's gaze. The two pairs of eyes conveyed more feelings and thoughts than any words could. He reaches out hesitantly, fearful of the possibility that she wanted nothing more to do with him. Aelin watches his hand reach out before retreating back slightly. He was nervous, clearly, and scared of her response. She closed her eyes, steadied her racing heart, and finally meets him halfway.

Percy grasps her arm gently and pulls her into his embrace. The demigod holds her tense body close to his as he begins his path of redemption. His hands rubbed at her back as they sat in silence. A flimsy yet appreciated attempt to soothe her pain. It wouldn't be enough for her, nor him, but it was a start in the right direction.

"Perseus," a feminine voice interrupts them as the two break apart from each other. His head turns to the entrance of the tent to see Manon staring at him.

He licks his dry lips, the cracked skin feeling uncomfortable under his tongue, before responding.

"May I help you, Lady Manon?" Percy asks politely, feeling very unsure about where he stood with the Ironteeth witches. He did almost kill everyone around him last night, after all.

The witch didn't seem to know where they stood either, leaving the two parties at an awkward impasse. She cleared her throat to break the uneasy tension.

"As Wing Leader, I have the authority to offer temporary truces to parties of interest. This includes both enemies and neutral parties. We both know that you are, ah, unstable right now. For the good of both the beings of this world, and the land itself, I suggest that you accompany us until you are no longer a hazard to those around you."

Percy stared at the witch for a few seconds, not bringing up the poorly hidden message of "we don't feel like dying yet so we won't fight you," before nodding his head in acceptance.

* * *

Chaol barely jumped back in time to avoid crashing into one of the many rushing workers. Their arms were filled with bags of weapons, food, and other resources. He grimaced as he realized it was the amount usually brought on scouting missions.

_Dorian. _The captain swore mentally, knowing that only he would have the audacity and reason to create a scouting party for the Salt Mines.

Not to mention the rumors of the spotting of the Ironteeth Clan witches in the western forests of Adarlan.

Chaol's eyes traveled over his hectic surroundings as he sought out his Prince, sighing loudly when he spotted the man talking with a few of his knights.

"Dorian!" Chaol calls out as he closed the distance between them. The Prince whirls around and greets Chaol with a blinding smile.

"Chaol! You are just in time for the expedition! Have you come to travel with little ol' me?" Dorian asks, his cheekiness irking the Captain of the Guard.

"Dorian. With all due respect, have you gone mad?" Chaol questions slowly, his eyebrows furrowing in concern for his childhood friend, "Do you wish to stumble blindly towards your death? Is that what you hope to gain from a confrontation with the man?"

"Ahh Chaol, you must lighten up old friend. I have no need to fear the man, for I have done no offense to him," Dorian replies with a smile, "Haven't you heard? The man hasn't fought anyone since then. Not even the witches! For someone who slaughtered over a thousand soldiers, a handful of witches would be nothing."

Chaol grimaced at his friends logical, albeit far-fetched, reasoning. He hated how cunning and silver tongued the prince had become over the years.

"Then I must accompany you for both your sake and mine," Chaol stated firmly, "if I can not convince you to not embark, I will embark with you as protection."

Dorian opens his mouth to reject his statement before stopping, a glint of mischief and slyness appearing in his eyes.

"Very well! We shall depart with the utmost haste! Let us go west, old friend!"


	6. Chapter 5

_Last time on Flames of Freedom:_

"_Then I must accompany you for both your sake and mine," Chaol stated firmly, "if I can not convince you to not embark, I will embark with you as protection."_

_Dorian opens his mouth to reject his statement before stopping, a glint of mischief and slyness appearing in his eyes._

"_Very well! We shall depart with the utmost haste! Let us go west, old friend!"_

"_As Wing Leader, I have the authority to offer temporary truces to parties of interest. This includes both enemies and neutral parties. We both know that you are, ah, unstable right now. For the good of both the beings of this world, and the land itself, I suggest that you accompany us until you are no longer a hazard to those around you."_

_Percy stared at the witch for a few seconds, not bringing up the poorly hidden message of "we don't feel like dying yet so we won't fight you," before nodding his head in acceptance._

* * *

Duke Perrington was not a person you wanted to underestimate. Being the cousin of the King, he had a lot of political power and even more experience. While the King did not have many advisors, Duke Perrington was definitely the most notable. Despite his calm demeanor when interacting with other nobles, he was widely disliked among the rabble of the Kingdom.

He was extremely classist, favoring the mistreatment and enslavement of both the poor and the non-human. He worked for the King of Adarlan in the shadows for many years, pushing the conquest of Terrassen ruthlessly.

Months before the King took power and solidified his rule, Perrington ordered the execution of any and all Fae, resistance members, and political enemies mercilessly. The man was cold and calculative, favoring tyrannical rule over justice. He had a quick, cunning tongue with a sharp wit, allowing him to create puppets of just about anyone. He played to the weaknesses of his target, a certain Kaltain Rompier's "love interest" being the most recent.

She didn't love the prince for who he was but for the power she would inherently receive for marrying him. Princess of Adarlan, and eventually queen, had quite a nice ring to it, definitely better than the titles that were whispered behind closed doors.

Whore. Slut. Any and every word to describe a shamelessly corrupt and promiscuous woman. Her goals for the power that came with the marriage did not go unnoticed by Dorian, and he made sure to skillfully shut down her attempts at flirting. The excuse of studying in his tower, checking on Chaol, or performing his duties as prince were typically enough to escape the snake's grasp.

"I have news, my King."

Bowing slightly to the man, Perrington quickly cut to the chase. "Your so- _Prince Hallivard _has left the city with almost three dozen guards. Captain Chaol Westfall accompanies him," Perrington silently berated himself for his near miss. While the King did not like his son's rebellious attitude, his status of Prince was stressed upon by the King, though the reasons for said behavior was unknown to all.

"He has heard of the rumors, I presume?" the King questioned, his voice calm. If the King was surprised at his son's actions, he didn't show it. His posture practically screamed indifference and boredom. Perrington swallowed down his unease at the King's lack of reaction.

"Would you like me to have someone follow and observe?" he asked, wanting to leave the King's presence immediately. His instincts yelled at him to leave the room before the King snapped. The King's rage was not something he wanted to experience ever again.

"No, this will play to our advantage. This..._being_...won't kill my son if he isn't provoked, and you won't have to take a _leave_ of your position. Do you understand me, Perrington?" the King giving his thinly veiled threat with a straight face. Duke Perrington looks up at the King before nodding his head and bowing.

When he left, the King leaned back in his throne once again and began to mutter to himself about "defiant little upstart children".

* * *

"Perseus Jackson," a female called out, surprisingly startling him. He turned towards the direction of the voice and was surprised to see what looked like a female Nico.

The witch had very black hair, and he immediately knew it was dyed. Such black hair was extremely uncommon on his planet, and it seemed to hold true here as well. Unlike most of the other witches, the lady before him had brown eyes that held a glint of dark mischief and insanity.

Her eyes bored into his, unraveling the chaos and depression that was in them rather quickly. She withheld her groan of annoyance as his powerful emotions washed over her. The woes of being a witch.

As a witch, Edda had a severe case of Hyperesthesia. Her senses were best compared to a wolf's. Emotions were easy for her to detect in a person as her senses were greater than a normal human.

Fear, confusion, and an undercurrent of annoyance were a few of the emotions that were rolling off of Percy's person. Those were easy for her to ignore.

The unending amount of rage and hatred that boiled right underneath his skin? Not so much. The intensity of his rage was like taking an RPG-7 and firing five times at a stuffed animal at point blank range.

"If he existed here, I would claim you as a daughter of Erebus, Primordial of deep darkness and shadows," Percy replied calmly, his racing heart slowing down gradually as he calmed. "Would you like to stand there in silence some more or come out and give me your name?"

The witch cocked her head to the side, the glint in her eyes sharpening at his laidback attitude. It irked her that he didn't consider her a threat. How she yearned to stab her dagger right between his eyes, strap him to a table, cut him up, and then-

"My name is Edda, I am Manon's Seventh," she replied curtly, cutting off her inner ramblings. Her pupils hardened even more as his eyes roamed over her body. The man had a death wish it seemed, one that she would gladly grant if provoked.

"Don't get your panties in a twist, Edda. I'm not checking you out, just trying to figure out what role you withheld from me…" he trailed off as he thought. She was clearly the stealthiest witch here, considering she had snuck up on him with ease.

Her eyes were like shards now, sharp enough to cut through diamond. This man was pushing her patience, surprisingly, and was very close to figuring out her role as Manon's Shadow.

Percy snaps his fingers as he figures it out. God, she wanted to rip his perfect teeth out and pound his perfect nose into the ground.

"You're quicker, sneakier, and supposedly deadlier than the other witches. You are clearly a spy or an assassin!" he exclaimed, smirking triumphantly when he saw her eye twitched. Gods above, he loved pushing the limits of these witches. They reminded him of Zeus and Ares. Easily angered, and hilarious to watch explode.

"Anyways, what did you need of me, Edda?" he asks before she can lose her cool. She takes a calming breath, closing her eyes at his relentless insolence.

"My cousin has informed me that the Prince of Adarlan has embarked on a mission to find you. They left four days ago and should be here within the next few days. What will you do?"

Percy hummed to himself in a mixture of amusement and understanding. "He most likely comes to discuss peace with me. I am feeling quite against that right now, though."

Edda raised an eyebrow at the demigod's words. "This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with a certain blonde assassin that just so happened to be a prisoner of Adarlan?" she questioned dryly.

Instead of sputtering like she expected him to do, he just waved her question off with his hand, staring out on the campsite. "Mere coincidence, nothing more."

Her eyebrow lowered as she stared flatly at him. "Right..._coincidence_."

Percy turned to face her again and smiled with a brightness that could only be described as beautifully fake. "Yep! Coincidence!" he stretched coyly, the muscles underneath his tight fitting shirt rippling with power, and reached for his pen-sword. With a quick spin, he pocketed it and stood up.

Her laugh almost got past her bit lip at the childish and annoyingly funny look on his face. How did this man so easily get past her defenses? Those mental barriers that she had built up coming down with the grace of a fresh witchling in their first ever fight.

Percy lies down on his cot and stares at the ceiling. He felt an odd sort of peace around this witch, one he didn't feel with any of the other ones. He knew it was most likely because of the dark taint in her soul. One that he also had himself. They were kindred spirits, having both committed heinous acts of violence and deceit for their family and friends. The Gods for Percy, and the Thirteen for Edda.

"You know, out of all the witches here, I sense a much deeper darkness within you. Darker than your leader, for sure. Maybe even the darkest one here. Why?" Percy asked, turning onto his side so as to look at Edda.

Edda remained silent for a few minutes, debating whether or not to share anything with the demigod she just met.

"I was a young witchling when I was told about the Crochans. They were witches who betrayed the Ironteeth long ago for reasons unknown. We were told that they were our enemies and that their survival was not allowed if I should ever come across one," Edda looks away from his piercing gaze, lost in the memories of her time as a witchling. "I was a mere ten years of age when I met my first Crochan. A tiny infant. No more than four fortnights of age. I killed it as was my duty. I still recall the babe gurgling as it choked on its own blood."

"Mmm. Such is the way of a demigod. We are bred to fight, defend, and kill any and all enemies of the Gods. I killed my fair share of kids back on Earth. They were misguided souls who fought for a cause they wholeheartedly believed in. I still have regrets. Gods know if I didn't, I would be worried. The one thing that keeps me going? I know that if I don't choose to darken my own soul, the world itself will plunge into darkness incarnate. Your ability to persevere only adds to your ethereal appearance. You...fascinate me," Percy catches her gaze again as the two lock eyes.

"You are like a mirror. In the beginning it is clean, streakless, and well kept. As time goes on, it retains its original beauty but is tainted by the marks, smudges, and grime of beings around it, yet it bears these marks without complaint even though it could break apart at any time. I know that doesn't sound flattering, but I truly mean it as a compliment," he finishes, looking into her steely onyx eyes that threatened to swallow his entire soul if he stared too long.

She stares at him some more, conflict arising in her head as she matches his stare. Deciding on her course of action, she walks over to the cot and sits in front of him. Tracing her finger on his shoulder blade, she can't help but marvel at the strength underneath it.

"It's been a long time since I've been with a human. Almost a half a century, in fact. But a demigod? That's never happened," she pauses, snaking her other arm up to his face and cupping his cheek and then moving her lips to his ear and whispering, "I wouldn't mind experiencing my first."

His heart pounds as he grabs her by the waist and pulls them under the covers, the moments between them lost to the darkness as night fell over the campsite. The darkness within them was a tad bit brighter a few hours later, and so were their minds.

* * *

"You slept with him."

The cold yet caring voice of her leader made her stop in the middle of her walk back to her tent.

"Is that a problem?" She replied softly, not wanting to get into this conversation after having such a good time.

"It's been fifty seven years, Edda. Why now? It's more than just him being a demigod. Why sleep with him?" Manon replied mercilessly, her angry tone making Edda wince.

Edda was silent for a few minutes, a very small ghost of a smile crossing her face as she recalled the truly satisfying past four hours.

"He reminded me of Edward."

Manon raised her eyebrow at the boldness. She had rarely talked about her first human lover. "Explain."

"Edward always looked at me like I was a gem in the dirt, tainted but beautiful. He knew what I was and accepted it. Perseus Jackson is the same, in a way. He has a way with words that made me feel..._humane._ We are seen as monsters by most of the world, Manon, and sometimes I would like to be seen as something else."

Edda paused, thinking back to the comparison Percy had made. "He compared me to a mirror, you know. It was...satisfying to be praised for my willpower to do what some couldn't," Edda's eyes began to slightly sting, the tears not leaving her ducts. "He didn't admonish me for killing that infant Crochan. If anything, he applauded my ability to persevere."

Manon's eyes softened, even as fire burned in her veins at the sign of weakness. Witches aren't _allowed_ to show this level of weakness. It was beaten out of them long ago.

The fact that she had never seen her Shadow look this happy stayed her hand. She wouldn't report this to her grandmother, unless it began to affect the efficiency of the rest of the Thirteen.

"It also helps that he is very sexy and really good in the sack." Edda quipped, enjoying the sputtering of her normally calm leader.

"Good night Edda."

"Good night Wing Leader."

**Hey!**

**I've always enjoyed the witches of the Thirteen. Two in particular being Manon's shadows. Oh, and Asterin. Anyways, this is a simple fling, the pairing is still Aelin x Percy.**


	7. Chapter 7: End of First Arc

The caravan had gone full speed for a solid two days before the scenery had finally changed from the beautifully lush forests to a complete wasteland. Seeing the damage done by the mysterious entity had caused the pit in Chaol's stomach to only grow. The amount of destruction and its extent was awe-inspiringly terrifying.

It was precise, deadly. The air was tainted with the smell of decaying wood and dead animals. It was an immediate change that had abruptly stopped after a certain point. Dorian gazed at the destroyed landscape in silent awe, the slightest amount of fear festering within him at last.

Was it really such a good idea to approach a man with this much power? How could the world's balance change so abruptly with the arrival of one man? Dorian didn't like the odds of a fight with the man whatsoever, even with the additional hundred elite soldiers and his best friend at his back. One glance at the pile of bodies left behind at the Salt Mines Garrison of Endovier was enough to answer any questions of why.

"Chaol." Dorian called out to the Captain of the Guard, staring out across the deadened lands before him as his armor-clad best friend approached him.

"Yes, my prince?"

"Have a few scouts search the area around us...something isn't right." The prince adjusted his clothing in an uncomfortable manner, clearly agitated by something in the air.

"Something really isn't right here, my friend…" Dorian murmured. Just what was wrong with the air around here? A loud crunch of food being bitten caused him to whirl around.

"Ah. That would be my fault! I am terribly sorry for the sudden, ah, redecoration of this area."

At the first bite of the apple, every sword had been drawn and leveled toward the intruder. By the time the man was halfway done with his response, Dorian had been completely separated from him as his soldiers formed ranks between them.

The man who had spoken had been casually reclined across a fallen log, a half-eaten Apple in their hand.

"Prince Dorian Havilliard of Adarlan, I presume?" He greeted the prince, a slight upwards tilt of his lips the only reaction to the hundreds of pointy things aimed at him. "I must say...you are much more handsome in person than they say you are."

His entire disposition screamed "power" and it both irked and amused Dorian, oddly enough. He moved a few locks of black hair out of his face as he took a good look at the man who had left his father's kingdom in uprest for almost a week now.

"Indeed, and you are the man who has been giving my kingdom's men a run for their money...and their lives." Dorian replied just as casually, the odd feeling in the air around him becoming quickly less oppressive.

"I'm sorry. To be fair, they were keeping, beating, and raping slaves daily so...I'm actually not very sorry." The man replied with a half shrug, smiling slightly when Dorian snorted in response.

"Believe me young man, I am no fan of slavery myself." Dorian replies, crossing his arms over his chest. Percy's eyes were drawn to the paludamentum-style cadet grey cape that hung over his right shoulder. Cobalt blue streaks were littered across the pristine cloth as is billowed behind the Prince. It almost seemed to be styled after modern camouflage patterns but Percy couldn't tell for sure.

"My eyes are up here, by the way." Dorian replies amusedly as he sees the man's eyes pinned onto his right shoulder. To his credit, Percy didn't cower or become sheepish at being caught. Just smiling wistfully and returning his look to Dorian's gaze.

"My apologies, Young Prince, but your paludamentum reminded me of a few of my friends." Percy stood up slowly and gave a small sarcastic bow to Dorian. "My name is Percy Jackson and I've come to inquire about your reasons for approaching me."

Dorian raised an eyebrow at the odd sounding name, not even batting an eye at the near-mocking bow. "Has anyone ever told you that you have a way of speaking to people above you?"

Percy smirked before chuckling lightly, "oh too many in my life, Prince Dorian. Even people who are at my level are bothered by how I speak! Can you imagine the struggle I had with making friends with a mouth like mine?"

The two men laughed heartily, ignoring the still tense soldiers that stood between them. Chaol inwardly sighed at his best friend's seemingly careless attitude. Not even a minute had passed and apparently Dorian and Percy were the best of buddies.

"Despite what you may think, I originally did not come for you." Dorian finally said after the laughs subsided.

"Oh?"

The Prince of Adarlan sighed deeply and rubbed his brow, "I was supposed to retrieve Celaena Sardothien in a few months time for an event my father insisted on holding. So imagine my surprise that not only did she escape from an inescapable labor camp, but an outsider came in and destroyed it entirely."

"An event for a slave? The greatest assassin of Adarlan at that? Your father is either a madman or has eighty pound balls of steel." Percy retorted, gauging the reactions of everyone present. Percy's gut was screaming at him that Dorian didn't get along with his father.

The shot at the king had the expected result. Percy saw a ripple of dissent roll through the ranks of guards, Dorian's shoulders stiffening slightly, and the well-decorated soldier that stood next to him sighed minutely.

While the soldiers may not have seen it, both Dorian and Chaol had experienced enough political interactions to see the test that Percy had thrown at them.

"My father is an _interesting _character, as I'm sure you've noticed. Still, he is my father and the King of Adarlan. I'd recommend you watch your tongue when in _public_." Dorian answered smoothly. Chaol cleared his throat lightly as he glanced sideways at his Prince.

"Will you be willing to release Lady Celaena into my care, Percy Jackson?" Chaol asked at last, cutting straight to the point as to avoid any further frivolous conversation.

Dorian watched with bated breath as he watched Percy ponder the question presented to him. This was the defining moment of the future of his kingdom. Any intelligent person could see that clear as day.

"No."

Chaol nearly cursed at the answer given, for it didn't bode well for him, his friend, or his King.

"But…" it took all of Chaol's discipline to prevent his head from snapping back towards the young man.

"I'm willing to negotiate the terms of this..._event._" Percy finished, the word 'event' leaving a foul taste on his tongue.

Dorian raised an eyebrow as he pushed a few dark locks behind his ear once again. "The event is a tournament to become the King's Champion. Criminals, soldiers, anyone who is backed by a sponsor may participate for the position. The King's Champion will be given payment, lodging, clothing, and nourishment in exchange for following through with any commands that my father gives."

Percy frowned, "So...Celaena would be trading freedom with servitude to a man she hates? I don't see how that will appeal to her at all."

Dorian smiled slightly at the astute observation, "it would have worked if not for your interjection. I am willing to adjust _some _of the terms of the offer now, if that suits you."

Percy looked off into the forest as he pondered how to respond. It was clear that the Prince didn't see the true threat that he posed, something that amused him greatly.

"I'll let you in on a little secret, Prince Dorian. I've known Celaena for about a week now and she is without a doubt the _scariest_ woman I've ever met and I've met immortal beings." Percy informed him with a small smirk. When Percy looked back towards the Prince, his gaze sharpened and a prominent frown made itself known.

"However...while you may not completely fear her...do not make the same mistake with me. The destruction around you was barely a fourth of my power."

Dorian froze at the loud and clear warning issued to him. Even Chaol, the normally stiff and disciplined Captain of the Guard, stiffened slightly at the outright threat.

"Your father will not have Celaena Sardothien as his personal plaything. Nor will he have me as a willing errand boy. We both know that the only way this ends is with either your father dethroned, or my dead body lying at his feet. I believe we also both know which one is more likely to happen." Percy paused for a few seconds to let his words sink in fully before pushing his point home, "lastly, I believe that the love you show for your father isn't as deep as you make it out to be. Whether it is directed at your King or at your father is still up for debate."

Dorian frowned minutely at how quickly the young man before him had deciphered everything about him. Dorian prided himself on being unreadable by all of his peers, leaving them puzzled about his true meanings behind lightly honey-coated words and endless platitudes.

"I don't want to destroy the world, Dorian Havilliard, but if it means that the suffering of the masses will be lessened, then I will gladly accept that burden."

The forest was dead silent as Percy's claims sunk into everyone's minds. They were spoken so smoothly and confidently that no one present doubted that the man before them would do exactly as he said.

"I will return soon with a few suggestions on how we proceed. You don't own me and I don't own you, Prince Dorian. I will not be made a personal slave or servant, and I'll be damned if I let anyone else become it. If I have not returned within two days, you can presume that my answer has not changed."

With that final message, Percy Jackson's body disappeared from sight in an explosion of mist, causing everyone to recoil slightly at the show of power.

Dorian frowned at the empty space where Percy Jackson stood as he finally realized just what he was dealing with.

Magic.

**WHEW. It took me a few tries at making sure this was perfect, but I finally got the perfect stopping point for this chapter. This concludes the first arc of Percy Jackson: Flames of Freedom! I'm sorry it was so short, but I only wanted to go as far as this for the first arc.**

**So far, we've seen a little bit of the three sides of this story: The King, the Rebels(Percy and Celaena), and the Neutral party(Dorian, the witches, and Chaol.)**

**We've also seen some of the machinations that are occurring behind the scenes(if you can read between the lines that is!). I hope everyone can spot them all!**

**Lastly, we've finally seen Percy's first "character arc". If you couldn't tell, it's just anger and slight bitterness. At this point, Percy is completely willing to scorch the earth if it means that Celaena and the slaves were free.**

**Stay tuned for the next chapter and the second arc of this story! :D**


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